


all yours

by thorbiased



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Brunnhilde | Valkyrie Centric, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Implied Sexual Content, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Thor:Ragnarok (2017), not smut but almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:33:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29895669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorbiased/pseuds/thorbiased
Summary: They hadn’t acknowledged the tension between them, whether it was from fear of ruining it or fear of making it real, neither knew. It was obvious, though, to them and everyone else on the ship. They were a time bomb. All they needed was someone to light the fuse.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie & Loki (Marvel), Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Thor (Marvel), Loki & Thor (Marvel)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	all yours

**Author's Note:**

> it has been QUITE a while since i've posted any kind of fic and it feels like even longer since i've written anything at all. school's really keeping me busy and absolutely draining my creativity. and i should probably work on the evil thor fic (i AM working on it..slowly), but i've got thorval for y'all. enjoy <3

Brunnhilde swept Thor’s leg out from under him with a swipe of hers, sending him tumbling to the ground with a crash. She scrambled down after him and landed with her knee on his chest, pinning him to the mat. 

“I win,” she panted, leaning in close. He stared up at her with one wide eye, trying to catch his breath. His hair dripped with sweat, as she was sure hers did. “Surrender, your majesty.”

A devilish grin passed over Thor’s lips. Brunnhilde had just a moment to register fear before he rolled to the side and crawled on top of her, pressing his palms into her biceps. She was trapped under him, now, and she was well aware of his body’s proximity to hers. As if emphasizing that proximity, Thor swung one leg over her hips to hold her more firmly in place. 

He lowered his lips to her ear. “Surrender’s not in my nature.” 

Heat pooled in Brunnhilde’s body. They hadn’t acknowledged the tension between them, whether it was from fear of ruining it or fear of making it real, neither knew. It was obvious, though, to them and everyone else on the ship. They were a time bomb. All they needed was someone to light the fuse. 

Brunnhilde struck the match when she pressed her lips roughly to Thor’s, but even as he leaned into it and pulled her body flush against his, she was too scared to put the flame to the wick. She had no clue if Thor sensed it; the way he touched her, kissed her, gave no indication that he wanted anything less than all of her. 

“Let’s go,” Brunnhilde gasped as Thor’s fumbling fingers found the back of her armor, “My room.” 

“Gladly,” he growled, pulling her up into his arms as he stood. Brunnhilde wrapped her legs around his middle. Though fear stirred in her heart for the emotions this encounter would entail, she trusted Thor fully. He wouldn’t drop her, he wouldn’t hurt her—but Norns, she would have to break his heart. 

Her eyes fell shut as Thor’s mouth found her neck. _She’d break his heart._ Her nails dragged through his cropped hair. _She’d break his heart._ They crashed backwards into her room. Thor had just enough sanity to lock the door behind them before they landed on the bed. 

Brunnhilde planted her hands on his chest, and he stilled immediately. As he hovered over her, panting with want but fully at her mercy, she smiled. _She’d break his heart._ She lifted her hand to his cheek and trailed her thumb across the curve of his face. His scar was rough under her touch. Her kiss was an apology. Thor laughed against her lips, oblivious. 

_Oh well_ , she thought as he removed her chest plate, and she pulled his shirt over his head, _he’ll get over it._

She did not, however, consider whether or not she’d be able to. 

* * *

They fell asleep too soon after they’d finished for Brunnhilde to deliver the killing blow immediately. But when she woke to Thor snaking an arm around her middle in the dead of night, she knew she had to end things soon. His touch was permanent, he was steady. He wanted this to be something she couldn’t give him. 

“Thor,” she whispered, so differently from the way she’d moaned his name earlier, “You have to go.”

He didn’t hear her. Pain pierced her chest when she realized he was asleep; he’d reached for her on instinct. Her throat tightened. She could stay still. She could turn over and lean in and let herself be warmed by him, but at what cost? She didn’t know how to do this anymore. Alta had been her first and last love. There wasn’t room in her heart for Thor. He was big and loud and obvious. She’d never be able to love him the way he’d love her. There would always be a disconnect, always a divide. They’d never end well, so they could never begin. 

“Thor,” she said again, her voice too loud. His face scrunched, and his eye peeled open. He’d lost his eyepatch sometime in their romp. The hole in his face aged him, but the sleep in his remaining eye made him look so young. “You need to leave.”

Thor lifted his head off the pillow. So naive, even after everything, so trusting. “What?” 

Brunnhilde swallowed once. “I don’t want to wake up in your arms, Your Majesty. This...that didn’t mean anything.” 

Anger flashed in his features. Oh, what anger. How he managed to be such a balance of emotions, she’d never understand. Kind, yet capable of destruction unlike any the universe had yet seen. He pushed up on his elbow and his blanket fell off his shoulders, exposing his broad chest; the stripes left by her nails still glared red against his skin. “I’m just your whore, then?”

“Get out,” Brunnhilde repeated, giving her voice an edge she didn’t feel. She wanted to turn over and watch the wall, watch anything but the raw emotion on Thor’s face. He was pissed, but just as she’d predicted, and he was heartbroken. “ _Go._ ”

Thor pressed his lips together in a thin line, but he didn’t say another word. Now she did turn away from him. She felt more vulnerable now than she had with her naked body exposed to him. The thick comforter that covered her could’ve just as well been a sheet of paper. His body’s weight rocked the bed as he pushed himself away from her, his warmth left her side. There was a chorus of clanking and thuds as he dressed himself and crossed the room. Brunnhilde squeezed her eyes closed. The door slammed shut, and Brunnhilde buried her face in the pillow, refusing to let any tears fall. 

_It was for the best_ , she lied to herself. The ghost of his lips against hers, the chill that set into her bones from lack of Thor’s body heat beside her, and the ache in her chest all told her otherwise. 

* * *

“What did you do to my brother?”

Loki stood above her with his arms crossed, staring down with cool and accusing eyes. They were the only two left in the galley, the crowds having long since dispersed. 

Brunnhilde swirled an empty spoon around her empty bowl, glaring at Loki. Maybe if she didn’t respond, he’d go away. 

“ _Valkyrie_.”

“My business with your brother is _my business_ ,” she growled. Her spoon hit the bowl with a clatter. “Not yours.” 

Loki pressed his lips together in an annoyed line. Despite Brunnhilde’s deepest wishes, he swung one leg over the side of the bench across from her. He settled into his seat like he was oh so comfortable to intrude on Brunnhilde’s sulking. 

“He’s been moping around this ship for three days now,” Loki said. Brunnhilde hoped her face didn’t show the hurt that twisted in her chest. She hadn’t seen him. He’d been avoiding her. Or had he just been hiding?

“I’m _not_ talking about this with you,” she said again. She pointed the dull end of her spoon at his face and imagined scooping his eyes out. “Why do you care anyway?”

He tilted his head. “Would you believe me if I told you I truly cared about my brother’s feelings?” 

Brunnhilde couldn’t help but snort. “No.”

“Well, it’s true,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t care how you feel about him. All I know is how he feels about you. Just...don’t lead him on.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Brunnhilde mumbled, dropping her gaze. She pushed back from the table and stood, and slid her bowl harshly towards Loki’s chest. “Take my bowl to the wash, will you?” 

Loki’s green eyes narrowed, but he didn’t protest. 

* * *

It was another twenty four hours before Brunnhilde saw Thor. Her heart lurched in her chest when she caught sight of him in the hallway. She hid her excitement to see him, but he didn’t hide his. He could’ve lit the stars with how brightly he shone; his eye wide and smile even wider. It was that raw emotion that scared her so. 

“Brunnhilde,” he breathed, “I’ve been looking for you.”

Brunnhilde raised a brow. “Have you?”

Thor nodded. “Aye. I...I wanted to apologize,” he said. He closed the gap between them until they stood just a step too close together in the middle of that tight hallway. 

The proximity felt so natural, she couldn’t bear to step away. She folded her arms over her chest. “For what, Your Majesty?” 

“For being angry with you,” he said and sighed. She noted the awkward fumbling of his hands at his sides. “It was rude. I shouldn’t be angry with you because of what I assumed you felt about me. I’m sorry.”

Her throat got tight. _Norns._ “O-oh. Well, I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have...we shouldn’t...I led you on.” 

“No. No, you didn’t,” Thor said sternly. His hands gave in to the urge to reach out, and the soft brush of his fingertips against her bare forearm sent sparks over her skin. “You did nothing wrong. I read too much into things.”

Brunnhilde swallowed thickly. “I forgive you,” she whispered. When did they get closer to each other? When did she stop looking at his eye and start looking at his lips? His hand had fallen back to her wrist, and he wouldn’t move it. She wanted more, she wanted to touch him back, she wanted _him_. “Want to make it up to me?”

“Yes,” Thor sighed before his lips crashed into hers. 

_Dammit_ , Brunnhilde thought as she drug him back to her room, _We can’t keep doing this._

But they did. And it was _good_. 

Thor didn’t ask her if maybe this time would be different, if she’d changed her mind. He kissed her neck and slid out of her bed without a word. She turned over on her side as he dressed and left her with the lingering heat of his lips on her skin and the sound of her door shutting behind him. 

And damn it to Hel, it hurt to hear him go. 

* * *

They fell into routine after that. His room or hers, it didn’t matter. It was stress relief, it was a distraction, and it meant nothing. She didn’t know how many times she’d have to tell herself that for her to finally start believing it. How many times would she hold back tears when Thor kissed her between her shoulder blades? How many times would _stay_ linger in her thoughts as she watched him go? How long would she keep lying to herself? 

She found herself alone with him more often, and not just when they were having sex. It was just _them_ ; alone in the galley because they’d talked well past the time it took to empty their plates, alone in the cockpit because he volunteered to join her, alone in the hallways, alone but together. It was a natural thing, too. She’d come to expect his golden form at her side. It made the nights lonelier. It made waking easier. 

Rumors circulated the ship. Asgardians had always loved to gossip, and in such close quarters, it was to be expected. Besides, Brunnhilde and Thor had never been subtle people, and they didn’t try terribly hard to keep quiet. If there had been any doubt about their, ahem, _entanglement_ the power outage Thor had caused during one especially rowdy night all but confirmed it. The rumors didn’t bother her. On Sakaar, half the population had been convinced she had screwed the Hulk. They might’ve bothered Thor, but they had come to a silent agreement not to discuss their relationship, so she was too afraid to bring it up. 

* * *

It took her three months.

It took three damn months for her hand to dart out and grab his wrist before he could pick his discarded clothes off the ground, for him to turn stiff as stone in anticipation, for the word that had rested on the tip of her tongue since she’d first laid eyes on him to finally free itself. 

“ _Stay_ ,” she whispered, she begged. 

Thor needed no convincing. He slid right back under the sheets and slipped his arm under her side and pulled her tight against his chest. “Always.” 

Brunnhilde’s eyes fluttered shut. Her body finally relaxed, melting into his without restraint. He held her like it would kill him to let go. She turned her face so her cheek was pressed into his pecks, and his hand reached up to gently cup the side of her face. He was so gentle, and it still scared her, but not as much. She quieted the voices in the back of her head that told her that she was too broken to love him back. He was broken, too, she told them; they’d have to love despite the cracks. 

“How long have you loved me?” she asked him, just before he fell asleep.

His lips were soft against her hairline. “Since Ragnarok.”

She ran a slender finger over the curves of his bicep. “I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered, “I would have waited forever.”

She rolled her eyes. “So smooth, my Casanova.”

Thor sighed and settled back into his pillow, tugging her closer to his side. She wrapped her legs around his. “ _Yours_ ,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice, “I like the sound of that.”

Brunnhilde kissed the spot over his heart. “You’re mine, your majesty. All mine.” 


End file.
